The Mangaka Has Her Reasons
by Dailenna
Summary: [Royai, twoshot] The day has finally come, and there they stand at the altar. But has anyone considered that Arakawa might have her reasons why this hasn't happened in the manga?
1. The Wedding

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA

**Notes:** Because everyone wishes that Roy and Riza could get married, we have many ideas of what it would be like if they did. We also have many people who believe that it couldn't happen, for various reasons. This is my interpretation of what would happen if they did get married. So obviously, I'm assuming here that there is no 'fraternisation law' to be broken. And I suppose that then it's an AU.

Oh, and grats to me, because once I've posted both halves, this story is the one that'll raise my "total words written" above 100,000 . . . –pats self on back-

"**The Manga-ka Has Her Reasons**" by **Dailenna**

**Chapter One of Two: The Wedding**

A charcoal grey suit with soft lapels, a cravat, a stiff-collared white dress-shirt, a pair of white gloves without the well-known array on them, and black shoes so clean you could eat your dinner off them. A white, sleeveless dress – slight embroidery over the bodice, laced at the back and tapered at the waist to fall down lightly over slim hips, the skirt trailing behind for metres – a veil that sat in elegantly rolled hair, a dainty pair of white slippers, a bouquet of light pink and blue buds held in hands encased with another pair of gloves, long enough to reach up and meet the height of the dress's bodice.

Not even Maes Hughes could say that he had imagined the couple to look any better together. Even standing there at the altar, allowing themselves to show the love that had been suppressed for so long, they looked so peaceful. So comfortable in knowing that they would finally be together.

From the position in which Maes stood – that of the best man – he could see Riza's eyes shining with unshed tears, and when Roy turned to face the priest for the briefest moment, his dark eyes glistened just as brightly. Maes wasn't able to see himself, but he could feel the wet tracks down his own cheeks, and knew that there was more than one face in the crowd to his left that mirrored the emotion.

It had taken years of waiting for the couple to finally decide it was the right time. They had spent so long as co-workers, acting the roles of husband and wife without the intimacies, that when Roy Mustang decided that he would ask Riza Hawkeye to marry him, there had been no reason for a long engagement. They already knew that they were able to get on well in the closest of circumstances – was there any circumstance closer than mopping up the other's blood when they'd been shot? Or listening to their complaint morning and afternoon? Or adopting a homeless puppy merely because the other said they liked dogs?

So the engagement had been only long enough to toss together one of the most perfect weddings Maes had ever seen. He excluded his own from the group, only because he had been feeling joyful for his own sake then. The happiness he felt now was the slightest notch below that, and although he knew there was such little difference, he would never say it aloud.

He would never say it aloud – but he would let people know it when he burst into the office the next week with images of the reception in his hand. It had taken very little effort to persuade Gracia to get a few photographs of Riza before the ceremony. He himself had a few of Roy trying to work off his nerves.

And then came the words that the congregation was waiting to hear. The words that they had been so sure were coming eventually, but had always seemed around the corner, just out of sight.

"I do."

When the robed priest gave permission, Roy Mustang bent his head down and looked for a moment into the eyes of the woman before him. A heartbeat later, his lips captured those of his wife, and the solemn joy of the family members and friends in the crowd gave way to well-discernible delight. Maes brushed at his cheeks in an attempt to dry them.

* * *

"Now it is my job as Roy's best man to make this the least comfortable five minutes of his life," Maes said, with a smirk over his shoulder at the groom before turning to face the majority of the room again. "No, I'm just kidding, folks. There's nothing I could say right now to bring him out of that high. Take a look at him." 

Roy had been positively beaming for the whole afternoon and evening. He had had to force himself to stop smiling in between the photos at the park, because his cheeks were aching, and yet now here he was again, grinning so fiercely that he outshone the sun itself.

"Now, that smile," Maes said, "is the result of many a patient year. While I've always been here telling him to hurry up and get married, Roy was a lot more laid back about the idea. He said that he would when he was ready, and now that I look at the two of you, I can understand that you made the right choice by waiting that little bit longer."

Riza wasn't able to keep the smile off her own face. She had always been the more reserved of the two, but now she was the mirror-image of Roy – face aglow and teeth sparkling in the soft lighting. Her gloved hand was in Roy's, gripping tightly as they tried to concentrate on the speech rather than just dwelling on the fact that they'd finally made it.

Maes continued on seamlessly. "Roy's been my best friend for years now. We've fought many a battle together, back-to-back – whether in Ishbal, or here on the home-front, it didn't really matter. He's always been there to dig me out of the trouble I got myself into, and I've done the same for him from time to time.

"There was a point in time when that all seemed to change, though. It wasn't due to the fact that Roy had suddenly met a woman, or made another best friend, but rather that the quiet, loyal girl he had drawn to his side had finally come to understand enough about him that she finally knew how to respond when he made a mistake. Riza's always been cautious like that – never getting herself into anything too deep. Except when it came to Roy.

"I've known Riza for only a little less time than I've known . . . her husband," he grinned. "In Ishbal I heard countless rumours about the young sniper referred to by the nickname of 'the Hawk's eye,' and was even saved by her bullets on more than one occasion. She had been pointed out in passing to me, but I had never spoken to her properly until one day when Roy and I were saved from a not-so-dead man, and I went to thank her afterwards. It was to my surprise that I learnt the two had actually already met – some seven or eight years ago!" He paused for a moment as his audience laughed, before interjecting "-and had been living together and apart for five of those years!" The laughter bubbled up again, and he waited until it had died back down before continuing on.

"Not many of you know this, but Roy actually studied alchemy with Riza's father. Of course Riza was still in school at that time, so they really didn't meet except during school holidays, when – as I have been informed by the groom – they tended to view each other more as estranged siblings, and didn't actually talk, but rather _existed_ together." He looked over at the couple with a raised eyebrow. "I've never fully believed that story, but as there are no living witnesses to the contrary, that's just what we'll have to accept for now," he added with a toothy grin.

"So, if we tally up the time it's taken them, you'll find that according to Roy Mustang and his beautiful bride, the perfect amount of time to wait between meeting your prospective partner and marrying them is eighteen years. If we ask the men forced to work with them for half of this time, however" – a cheer went up from tables number five and seven – "they will all tell you – as confident in this piece of information as that the sun is in the sky at day, and the moon at night – that Roy and Riza have been married this whole time."

At this point Maes turned so that he was facing straight towards the newlyweds, rather than addressing the whole room. He put a hand down on Roy's shoulder and took Riza's hand – the one that wasn't holding Roy's. "I don't think it matters whether you've been married for five years or two hours – or even five hundred years, or two seconds – if you two can't make marriage work, then I don't believe there is a single person who can. If you two aren't in love with each other, then no one in the world has even understood the concept of love. If you two aren't going to be the best testament to the joys of marriage, then Hell already is and has frozen over." He turned back to the room with a wide grin on his face, just holding their gaze for a sentence longer. "And if you two don't make the best looking babies this world's ever seen – other than my Elysia! – then everything we learnt in school is a lie, and there is no such thing as 'genetics'."

A rumble of laughter passed once again through the room, and a few more cheers came from tables five and seven.

"I'd like to propose a toast," Maes said, in an attempt to conclude his speech. He waited as some guests took a champagne glass from the waiters who had just started circling around the room, and others held up their various drinks. "To Roy and Riza Mustang. May their lives be filled with love, compassion, joy, loyalty (of course), and a giant brood of blonde and black-haired children!"

Glasses raised into the air, and for the next few minutes the sound of chinking wine-flutes echoed around the room. Maes sat down and took a gulp from his own glass, chuckling when he looked over and saw that Roy and Riza weren't exactly drinking along with the others. Their wine glasses had been placed back on the table, and Riza had Roy's face in her hands as she settled a quick kiss on his lips. Roy wasn't long in returning the favour. Maes looked away, allowing them as much privacy as they would get in a celebration dedicated to the two of them.

Realising the stupidity of his allowing them a private moment, it took him only a second to prepare and prime his camera, and Maes snapped a shot of the couple before they got too heated.

When they noticed the flash, their mouths parted, and Riza had just leant over Roy to scold Maes – her face still too set in its smile to appear intimidating at all – when he snapped another one, and they choked out laughter before Riza found the words to tell him to go away.

"I would, but they're about to start serving dinner," Maes said teasingly. "I'll just have to stay put for now."

"Don't you have to go and check on Elysia?" Roy asked wryly, one of his hands still resting on the curve of Riza's hip, as it had before Maes disturbed them.

"Nope, I find I have more photo opportunities here, right now," Maes said stubbornly. He managed to hold his expression for a full ten seconds under the amused stares of the Mustangs. "Alright, alright," he caved, "but you know that you're going to have to sit and look through my whole two rolls of film when you get back from your honeymoon – whether they're of you or of Elysia. So know that it's your own fault if half of your wedding pictures are of her."

As he got up from the table to go and find his daughter, he heard the couple laugh to themselves. "Thank goodness we didn't have him do the 'professional' photos," Roy muttered.

"If we did, he wouldn't have been able to be in them with us," Riza was gently reminding him just before Maes was out of hearing-range. His smile widened. If he kept on smiling this much, he'd have to make himself stop, like Roy did, or his cheeks would start cramping up.

After dinner had come and gone, Maes found himself listening to a gentle piece of music played by the musicians who had been hired for the night. While a simple string ensemble played the key background layers, a clarinet wafted in and out of the melody tenderly enough that he could almost feel the tears welling up in his eyes again when he looked and saw Roy and Riza circling slowly about the dance floor. The fact that the train of Riza's dress was looped over her arm did nothing to take from the picture – her dress still met the floor decently on all sides, and she had only gathered the end of the skirt up so that Roy didn't accidentally trip over it.

Maes managed to fill his film easily that evening, and found himself wishing that he had brought another when he snapped his last – that very stunning image of Roy and Riza still on the dance floor, Roy's hand fitting into the curve of Riza's waist, easily guiding her in her movement, as she was only able to grip his hand with one of hers – the other was occupied with holding that dress, making it slightly harder for her to keep in time with her partner. Maes hadn't quite been able to keep the other people on the dance floor from drifting in and out of the photo, but when the film was developed later, he found that the other couples only framed the image, instead of ruining it.

* * *

_**A/N: **Reviews have been so scarce these days that I've been reduced to begging - or reminding - think of it however you will. Please review if you like it. Please review if you don't like it. Tell me what you love, or what you think I should change. Your opinions will be appreciated, and I will take the time to reply to every review I get. Thank you :)_


	2. The Honeymoon

**Disclaimer: **I don't own FMA

**Notes:** My view on the real reason why Roy and Riza don't get married. Please don't hold it against me.

**Warnings: **References to sexual activity, but nothing more than that, I assure you – I couldn't write a lemon if I tried x..X

**

* * *

**

Chapter Two of Two: The Honeymoon

Bouncing into the office on Monday, Maes was received with a much different reaction to the usual 'avoid the eyes and walk in the opposite direction' procedure. The images he usually had to wield like weapons in order to get anyone to look at them were this time invited with open arms. Not only were people willing to see the photos, but also to hear Maes' every rambling word about the ceremony, and the dancing, and the champagne, and the picture-perfect couple themselves. He was almost astounded by the attention he was given.

"Aww! They look so different together – were they ever like this before?"

"They're smiling! I've never seen that – I wasn't even sure that they had teeth . . ."

"Hah! You can see Havoc and Breda in the back of this one – they look like they're whispering about something."

Maes laughed. "Yes, it turned out that they were trying to figure out whether it would be polite to ask if they could get a photograph with Roy and Riza. See, here's one of them all together here . . . and another one here . . . and this one got ruined because Breda got distracted by a waitress walking past him . . ."

"Do you have any full-length photographs of the Lieutenant's dress? It looks so pretty in these, but I can't see all of it."

"Wait! Go back – I didn't get to see the ones of the Colonel's family! Is it true that he has three sisters?"

"Look at those shoes . . . I want a pair just like those . . ."

"Wow, look at that complexion. Is she even wearing make-up?"

"Yeah, there were some before and after shots a few back – it's mostly just lips and eyes. Miss Pretty managed to get perfect skin, somehow – I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive her that!"

"Well, that's _Mrs._ Pretty, now."

"Mrs. _Mustang_."

"It amounts to the same thing."

"Ladies – are you done arguing? I still have pictures to show," Maes reminded the two. Although their words sounded spiteful, they were given with a smile and a light-hearted tone. Their jesting jealousy was soon returned to the images in Maes' hands.

True, most of the crowd that had gathered to see the treasures he wielded were women, but considering that they were pawing over the photographs rather than him, Maes was sure that Gracia wouldn't mind his being surrounded by five other women – and two men, for that matter.

"So where are they now? I mean, are they on their honeymoon already? When do they get back?"

The grin returned to Maes' face. "They just left yesterday, and will be back in two weeks' time – long enough for a hard earned rest, I believe." And most likely it was going to be the best time of their lives – Maes remembered his own honeymoon well, and was currently considering having another one, despite only having been married for five years.

Still, it was his part as the one back at the office to get the work done, and make sure that when the Mustangs returned, they didn't have an immense workload to cope with. He had to keep the place clean and tidy for them. But upon thinking of their return, he considered making a banner out of the pictures of their wedding for them, and stringing it up over their desks as a sort of 'welcome back'.

* * *

It was a change, that was for sure. One of the biggest changes in his life. Roy Mustang was a married man. The gold band wrapped around his left ring finger was proof to the fact. Many a time he had noticed how peculiar and different his finger was feeling, but didn't once forget that the feeling was due to his new state – and his new wife.

The thought alone brought a smile to his face. He hadn't been waiting for 'the perfect time' as Maes had seemed to think, but rather it had never seemed right to just get married. Then all of a sudden he had wondered 'Do I have any reason to continue waiting?' and upon coming up with no answer, had decided then and there to ask her – which had been handy, since Riza had been by his side at the time. To his fortune, instead of enquiring why his question had come so out of the blue, she had smiled, letting her gaze wander away before answering a simple 'yes' and allowing the world continue on around them while they absorbed the idea. They were to be married.

Prior to the ceremony, he had scarcely been able to draw breath. As calmly and blasé as his proposal – or The Proposal, as he thought of it – had come and gone, he had yet to make it through the ceremony. The confidence with which Riza had answered his question left him without a doubt that even if he passed out midway through the ceremony, the marriage would still manage to be conducted that day. That had been the train of thought running through his mind before the wedding started, but when she walked through those doors, he clenched his teeth and stopped his leg from twitching just so that he could concentrate on her.

Her, with her fitted gown and bared shoulders. He had never seen such a sight before. The long skirt of the dress managed to balance out the rest, and gave her a look that was so . . . so seductively modest that he didn't know what to think other than that in a few minutes, she would be his.

From the moment that she arrived by his side at the altar and the veil was lifted, leaving her amber eyes to look up at him from beneath dark lashes, he knew that the grip she had on his hand was just as possessive as the one he had on hers. Her eyes spoke volumes to him in those brief seconds, flashing her message to him silently. _"So here we are."_

The ceremony ended with what their co-workers were surprised to learn was their first kiss. In all truth, Roy hadn't laid a hand on her other than in strictly Platonic cases – excepting only the two dances they had had together at Maes and Gracia's wedding, years earlier. It was the sweetest taste Roy had ever experienced – his very own wife. _His_.

The reception was a blur of speeches, music and more kisses. He remembered Maes' speech because not only had it given almost his whole life history, but Maes had also chosen to bring up the subject of children, which he had afterwards been questioned about by no less than six people, including Riza's grandfather. He remembered the music, because he took great pleasure in reading the expression of surprise on Riza's face when the musicians had started playing 'Rhapsody on a theme of Paganini' – her favourite piece of music from the Romantic Age – which he had secretly requested them to learn, so that they could play it for her. He remembered the kisses because throughout the whole reception, he and Riza had been giving and taking them delightedly.

And so here they had been for two nights, now. Here in a little hotel just off the western coast of Amestris, where they were able to act the innocent husband and wife off for a tour of the seaside, rather than the Colonel and Lieutenant back home at Central. Now that he thought of it, one benefit of their having only been at Central for a few months was that half of Riza's belonging were still in their moving boxes, and it wouldn't take quite so long for her to get everything from her apartment to his house. He smiled – he'd have to learn how to share now.

They'd been here for two nights, and for one day he had been putting off the trek down to the front desk. Eventually Roy managed to pry himself from his wife's side, somewhat reluctantly, so that he could ask the front desk if they had any oil to fix a squeaky bed. He personally didn't have any problems with it, but Riza had saucily assured him that the people in the room next to them might be glad of it.

So now, due to the suggestive rewards system his wife had made mention of implementing, he was asking a bemused clerk if the hotel had an oilcan, or some such thing on the premises, that the guests could make use of. The clerk disappeared for a minute before reappearing with a can that apparently he had taken from "one of the cleaning trolleys out back," and that Roy was to return as soon as he'd finished using it.

The walk back up the stairs was long enough that Roy was sure any weight he'd put on from the good eating over the past two days had been effectively worn off. On the second floor he had to push past a man who out of the corner of his eye looked familiar, but when Roy looked at him full on, he couldn't recognise him. As he pushed past, the man muttered something that sounded like "impatience in getting to the top," which Roy discarded. He may have been a hurry to get up, but he believed it was understandable, given the circumstances.

Upon finally reaching the right floor, and then the right room number, Roy fitted his key into the door and pushed it open, trying not to overturn the oilcan in the process.

He took two steps into the room, looked up and a lump formed in his throat – he couldn't breathe.

She lay there peacefully. No, not peacefully – silently. And yet, the room wasn't still with the silence, but buzzing with the white noise that signifies nothingness in the worst possible way. Eyes wide and mouth hanging open; her arms were bent at an awkward angle. It was the round hole through her forehead that would have delivered the debilitating blow. It wasn't enough that he could see the remnants of bone and blood scattered all over the curtains and carpet, but it seemed that after the incident – and after was the only option, since the expression on her face was so wretchedly silent – someone . . . some crazed psychopath had taken a knife to her.

Her face was untouched, but lacerations traced their ways down her arms, and her throat and belly had been so terribly disfigured. Her clothes had become so soaked with blood that Roy couldn't tell where her blouse ended and the . . . the . . . Was that-? Was that the inside of her stomach?

He fell to his knees, the oilcan dropped and forgotten, and crouched there on the floor heaving and retching until the entire contents of his own stomach had made its putrid addition to the panorama. His eyes rose again to the scene before him. She, his wife – his bride of two days – lay there, unmoving. The metallic smell of blood had started to rise so potently that he could smell it mingling with the odour of his own vomit, even from the doorway.

Lip trembling, he staggered to his feet and stumbled forwards to gaze down into the face he had stared at from across the bed less than half an hour ago. Had her eyes not been glassed over, he could have sworn that she was talking to him with them again. "_Why?_"

He reached out a hand and brushed her still-warm cheek. If it wasn't for the . . . for the . . . then he could trick himself into thinking that she might still be alive. But she looked back at him so coldly, as though he was a stranger to her. She didn't know him anymore, and she never would.

* * *

Maes headed out of work with a skip and a hop that evening. His best friend was finally married to the woman of his dreams, and Maes had a wife and daughter to get home to and shower affection over, before coming back to work the next day. The emotional high of the wedding was still prominent in Maes' delirium, and as he reached the front door of Headquarters, he considered that everything in his life was perfect right now. He had accomplished all that he meant to, and he had convinced his best friend to do likewise.

"Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes." A voice called out behind him.

Maes stopped walking, and turned about to see Jean Havoc standing there, hands in his pockets, and an idle smile shaped around his smoking cigarette. "Yes?"

"When is it that the Colonel and First Lieutenant get back?" Havoc asked, striding ahead with his long legs until he was walking alongside Maes. "Is it this week, or the next?"

"They still have another week and a half," Maes grinned. "They'll be back the Monday after this one."

"Ah, okay."

There was a pause as Maes considered Havoc's tone. "You miss them?"

Havoc laughed. "Nah, best to let them have their fun. They'll have enough work to do when they get back, as it is – I wouldn't wish them back early just so that there wasn't so much of it."

* * *

A few days later, on Sunday evening, a document was sorted into Maes' pile of paperwork for the following day – a low importance investigation that he merely had to check over to make sure it was conducted properly. A simple police report announcing the deaths of a young couple at a hotel on the western coast. _Victim number one was found in the bedroom with a bullet wound to the head. The victim also suffered superficial cuts to the arms, deep cuts to the throat, and disembowelment, most likely inflicted after death. She has been identified as Mrs. Riza Mustang, the female occupant of the room. _

_Victim number two was found in the bathroom, inside the bathtub. There were eight and a half inches of water in the tub, and the victim's skin was burnt beyond recognition, barring only the feet, which can be assumed is due to the 'protection' the water may have given. The feet suffered terrible blistering, due to the temperature of the water. Dental records have confirmed that the victim is Mr. Roy Mustang, the husband of the first victim._

_There was no one else seen around at the estimated time of the crime. Another guest of the hotel complained to the manager about loud screams heard coming from the room. The manager used the hotel's spare key to open the door, and found the room and the victims inside. He claims to have left the room exactly as he found it, and called the police immediately._

_Three suspicious items were found in the room. Item number one is an empty oilcan found in the bathroom, which, according to the clerk at the front desk, the second victim had come down to collect only ten minutes prior to the police being called. It is presumed that the oil that had been inside the can was used to fuel the fire that burnt his body. Item number two is the alchemic array seen on the wall of the bathroom. The nearby fire seems to have burnt it permanently into the wall – scrubbing the array after the investigation yielded no change in its shape, and the substance didn't thin out or flake off. An examined scraping of the wall has proven the substance with which the array was drawn to be blood. Item number three is an unaddressed letter that was found on the bed. It reads "Be sure not to kill too many in your impatience to get to the top." It was neither signed, nor in an envelope. The paper isn't creased in anyway, and was written on hotel stationary._

_The results conclude that the second victim murdered the first before committing suicide._


End file.
